He could be right. But if Jackson thought she had something to do with the murders, he would’ve set the shifters on her without giving the police a chance to take her into custody. She needed to know if she could count on him. “Either you believe I’m capable of solving this investigation or you don’t. Do your loyalties lie with the wolves or me?”
Jackson flinched, then scanned the tree line with hard eyes. He looked so torn, she almost felt bad for putting him on the spot. “Maybe it would be best if I met you back at the house.”
Part of her shattered at his non-answer. Despite the hint of confusion in his voice, she bit her lip against offering him comfort. “Maybe.”
He stayed still for a moment, waiting for her to relent. The silence felt heavy, and she battled herself. He nodded and turned away.
“Raven–”
“Get in the car.” She wondered if Taggert would abandon her as well. A pit opened at her feet, ready to swallow her and suck her back to the lonely world that existed before they bounded into her life and shook up her staid existence.
Taggert gazed at her solemnly then obeyed. She hesitated, watching Jackson disappear in the darkness and a jagged pang of regret bit her hard on the ass. How could she ask him to choose between his wolves, and a woman he barely knew? Once behind the wheel, she turned over the engine and took off in a spray of dirt and gravel.
It took Taggert five minutes to speak up and defend Jackson. Longer than she’d thought it would take. “Jackson was trying to protect you.”
“How? By getting me kicked off the case? Now, instead of being able to use the police resources, I’ll be out there on my own.”
Taggert’s large eyes landed on hers, a hesitance in them, yet he forged ahead. “I’m sure he didn’t plan for you to get fired.”
“He meddled.”
“He did what he thought was right.”
With that, she couldn’t argue. She had to respect a person who thought they were doing what was right, though that didn’t mean she had to like it. Lights filled the mirrors.
Blinded by the dickheads who were following too close, she swore and slowed down so they would pass. When she hit forty and they slowed with her, unease had her tightening her grip on the wheel.
“Taggert, buckle your seatbelt.” Shifters didn’t like to be confined and since they were the devil to kill, they rarely wore seatbelts. Most walked away from accidents that would kill humans.
The engine in the big, boxy Dodge behind them roared in her ears. The solid wall of metal edged closer to her bumper. She hammered on the gas and increased the distance between them. But only for a heartbeat. They gunned the engine, and the lights made it impossible for her to see the road until they were too damn close.
Their bumper connected with hers, slamming her and Taggert forward. The seatbelt nearly strangled her. The car fishtailed, and she wrestled to keep it on the road. She managed to straighten them out, but the Dodge was relentless and gaining ground fast.
“Taggert. Call Jackson. Tell him our location.” She ignored his nod, glad he did as told without arguing. His composure eased the ribbon of fear edging into her mind.
The lights grew blinding. She braced herself for another hit. The car threw her forward. The seatbelt cinched tight in a bear hug that threated to steal her breath. She controlled the skid and started to pull out of it when the car hit them again, smashing the fender and sending them spinning across the road.
She muscled her vehicle away from the ditch, but it had a mind of its own and veered to the opposite side of the road like a demented road runner caught in traffic. Taggert braced himself, and she gave one last wrench on the wheel so that her side of the car would take the brunt of the collision. She had a better chance at surviving the accident, while Taggert had the strength to protect himself and run if necessary.
Taggert cursed into the phone. The tires caught the gravel at the side of the road and spun them in a tight circle, then abruptly gripped the edge of the tar. The car twisted up on two wheels. She thought she managed to keep them out of the ditch when the second vehicle tapped the rear edge of her car.
The car flipped once. Metal crunched. Glass shattered. A tree appeared out of nowhere, and the driver’s side door took the brunt of the impact.
Metal bit into her body, tore her skin in one agony-inducing moment. Bark flew in the car, abrading her cheek. Then everything grew eerily quiet. Every inch of her was battered.
“Taggert?” When she twisted around to reach him, the car refused to release its hold on her body. Warm blood gushed down her side. Pain stole her breath for a precious few seconds.
“If you can hear me, get out and run. Don’t let them take you.” It was all in that damned letter, but she let her pride get in her way of seeing the danger to her people.